


The Place You Need To Reach

by ashamedbliss



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bottom Arthur, Bottom Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Established Relationship, First Time Bottoming, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:35:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29761110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashamedbliss/pseuds/ashamedbliss
Summary: “I don’t understand why the fans are convinced that Archibald is a bottom and needs a thorough pegging.”Arthur and Merlin are the lead actors in a popular TV show, when Arthur finds a fanfiction of his character, Archibald, bottoming.Merlin, coincidentally, is also Arthur's boyfriend and is willing to help him try it for the first time.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 128





	The Place You Need To Reach

**Author's Note:**

> I was absolutely and completely inspired to write this after I read _Spoiler Alert_ by Olivia Dade, which is a fantastic piece of fiction in itself. So while this isn't quite a fanfic of that story, it draws a lot of inspiration from specifically Alex and Marcus' conversation about Cupid getting pegged (honestly, it's fantastic, please read it).
> 
>  _Pendleton_ and its characters are my creation, even if it is a very obvious imitation of _Bridgerton_ because I wanted to keep this to a one-shot. The AO3 mock-up is also mine, and does not have a real fic to accompany it.
> 
> Title from Hozier's _Arsonist's Lullabye_ because I'm a simp for this song at the moment lol

“I don’t understand why the fans are convinced that Archibald is a bottom and needs a thorough pegging.”

Arthur says this with a sigh, scrolling through his Instagram feed.

Merlin and Morgana’s expressions of shock are perfect mirrors of each other. After a moment of pure disbelief, Morgana waves her make-up artist out of the room, muttering an apology about her “oafish” fellow actor. Merlin drops the newspaper and the crossword he’s been doing to the floor, lazing on a plush settee at Arthur’s side, thighs pressed together.

Arthur, meanwhile, looks between the two of them once he realises that he hasn’t had a response. “What?”

Morgana checks that the huge drawing room, complete with camera rigging and priceless decorations, is completely empty. They’ve been left to their own devices here, on a break between scenes. She turns back to Arthur. “You are an idiot,” she says, punctuating her statement with a roll of her eyes.

Merlin snorts, and Arthur pushes at him good-naturedly. “Don’t you start.”

“Why have you been reading fanfiction, Arthur?” Morgana asks, homing in on him like a spider eyeing a fly caught in its web. She crosses her arms across her chest, her regency dress barely containing her best features. “Fanfiction of our _series_? And of your own character, no less?”

“What, you haven’t?” Arthur asks with a shrug, glancing towards Merlin for support before he turns back to his on-screen wife. “I know they’ll have written some saucy stuff about Margaret and the King, all because of that sodding necklace.”

If Arthur didn’t know better, he’d swear that Morgana blushes, then, thumbing the fake diamonds at her throat and turning to a nearby mirror to correct her hair. With the main threat in the room distracted, Arthur turns to Merlin, who is barely holding back giggles behind a wide smirk. “I promise that I won’t let you stay in my room tonight if you think this is funny,” Arthur says with all the petulance of a five-year-old, and Merlin laughs even harder. With a huff, Arthur pulls out the pocket watch of his costume’s waistcoat, checking the time (which is sure to be wrong). “Well really, I must be going.” He rises.

Shoulders shaking, Merlin catches his hand and pulls him back down. Unlike the gentlemanly garb that Arthur wears to represent the Duke of Pendleton, Merlin is in a butler’s uniform. “You’re an idiot,” he soothes; it’s said with a lot more love than Morgana did. “What made you want to read it?”

“Someone had left a comment on my Instagram about it,” Arthur says proudly, tapping at his phone screen. “So I followed the link, and, well. Look. Here.”

He thrusts his phone into Merlin’s outstretched hand:

* * *

**Rating:** Explicit  
**Category:** M/M  
**Fandom:** Pendleton (TV)  
**Relationship:** Archibald Pendleton/Maurice  
**Characters:** Archibald Pendleton, Maurice, Margaret Pendleton  
**Additional Tags:** Canon Compliant, Anal Sex, First Time, Archibald Bottoms, Bratty Bottom, Plot What Plot, This Author Apologises For Nothing, Maurice Has Had Enough Of His Shit, Archibald Loves It Really, Riding the Bottom!Archibald Bandwagon to Hell, Pegathon 2021, Kinda  
**Stats:** Words: 7834 Chapters: 1/1 Comments: 87 Kudos: 1176 Bookmarks: 901 Hits: 15344

**Duke Pendleton’s Dicking**  
Maurchibald4Ever

**Summary:**  
Archibald’s frivolous requests are starting to take their toll on Maurice. His final request – for Maurice himself – is one too far. Maurice, however, decides to meet him halfway, and help Archibald go _all_ the way.

 **Notes:**  
Look, I know y’all are high-key obsessed with the idea of Margaret pegging Archibald and putting him in his place, but I stan Maurchibald too hard to write that so, here we are. Maurice is putting dear Archie in his place instead. With his dick. Enjoy! <3

* * *

“I know you read fanfiction, so I thought, well, why not give it a go?” Arthur says earnestly. He realises too late what he’s said, and just who has heard.

Merlin groans, putting his head in his hands, as Morgana turns away from her reflection. “Merlin, not you too,” she laments, shaking her head.

“Not of Maurice! Or Archibald, for that matter,” Merlin is quick to say, sitting up and glancing to his boyfriend. “It’s for _The Song of Achilles_ and is mostly to cope with the emotional trauma of reading that bloody book.”

Morgana raises her eyebrows, looking between the pair of them, sat pressed against each other. “Cute. Golden haired warrior and dark haired, clumsy companion? _Very_ cute.”

“Morgana, you can either continue to be annoying, or you can help me understand why everyone wants Archibald pegged,” Arthur says, somehow managing to look at her down the line of his nose even as she stands over them both.

“Arthur, that’s...” Merlin squints at the phone again, wishing he had his reading glasses on him. “This is just full-on sex. That’s not getting pegged. You’d get pegged by a girl.”

Morgana snorts at the mirror again. “You really are the worst bisexual I know, Arthur,” she says, their banter so easy between them after seasons of practice. “You’re lucky that Merlin took pity on you early so you didn’t have other men laughing at you for this.”

“You should see what they’ve written about you and Gertrude,” Arthur quips. Gwen’s character, like Merlin’s, is a member of the household staff and serves as Margaret’s personal maid. “They make pegging look like child’s play.”

Merlin puts a hand to his face. “Please, don’t ever use those words together again.”

“The oddest thing,” Arthur continues, oblivious, gently taking his phone back from Merlin and scrolling down the page, “is the fact that Archibald seems to enjoy it. Listen.”

“I’m done. I’m going.” Morgana throws her hands up and leaves the room before Arthur can start reading.

““ _Harder, Maurice,” Archibald begs, as Maurice plunges into him again, his virgin little hole desperate for the hired help. “Can’t you do it faster? I need more of you, I--””_

Arthur finds his phone snatched out of his hands. When he looks up, Merlin’s flushed face is inches before his. “Let’s do this later, shall we?” Merlin asks with a bright smile and clipped tone.

“Merlin,” Arthur laughs, drawling it as he always does. He makes a grab for his phone, but Merlin is quicker. “Give it back.”

Merlin holds it out of reach, dangling it over the end of the sofa. Arthur climbs along his body, sprawled along the settee, to try to get at it. As his knee dips between Merlin’s, he leans forward and feels Merlin’s cock pressing against his hip. “ _Merlin_ ,” he purrs this time. “I didn’t realise that was getting you going.”

Merlin’s hips hitch infinitesimally at those words. “Yes, well, Archibald looks like you, doesn’t he?” Merlin says in a rush, not meeting Arthur’s eyes. His skin is still a pretty shade of pink. “And Maurice like me. So as soon as I imagined you bottoming, I--”

Arthur tilts Merlin’s chin towards him, their costumes rumpled between them, Arthur’s phone landing with a clunk on the wooden floorboards. The kiss is hungry and urgent, communicating things that Arthur isn’t sure he’s even thought of before, let alone is brave enough to say out loud.

“Back on set in—Jesus _Christ_ , you two,” Morgana says as she flings open the door, realising too late what she’s stumbled upon. Arthur grins, pecking Merlin’s swollen lips, before he pulls back. “Holy shit, the dressers are literally going to kill you both twice over because _once again_ you’ve acted like teenagers and not, I don’t know, waited an hour until the next costume change anyway?”

It’s Arthur’s turn to laugh at Morgana, fury rolling off her in waves as she stands with her hands on her hips. “Maybe you should read some of this fanfiction, Morgs,” he drawls, sitting up on the sofa and helping Merlin to do the same. “Might relax you a bit as well. I read a great lesbi--”

She thrusts a finger in his face. “Do _not_ finish that sentence.”

“You really do act like a married couple sometimes,” Merlin says with a sigh. Arthur and Morgana glare at each other a beat longer, before Morgana lowers the threatening hand. “I think _this_ is why they want to see Archibald get pegged.”

Arthur scoffs as he stands up, brushing down his costume. “What, because Margaret is so controlling, and definitely having an affair with the King, and is making Archibald into some kind of cuckolded husband?”

“No,” Merlin says, exasperated, as he stands too. He tugs his own jacket back into place. “I think it’s because Archibald might even like it.” He raises his eyebrows at Arthur. Their fingers brush as he hands Arthur back his phone before he leaves the room.

Morgana is smirking. “Now _that_ would be a story I’d read,” she says with a grin, and Arthur wonders what kind of a can of worms he’s managed to open.

*

Back in their hotel room, Arthur cradles his Macbook in his lap while Merlin showers.

The filming had gone well. Despite Arthur receiving a bollocking from the head costumer, who still can’t believe he and Merlin have been together for six months and not six days based on their behaviour, it had been a productive day on set. The ride back to the hotel had been quiet, neither of them bringing up their earlier discussion.

After they got inside Arthur’s room (for Merlin barely used his own), Arthur showered dressed in just his dark red boxer briefs. While Merlin takes his turn in the bathroom, Arthur opens up an incognito Google Chrome page and navigates back to the fanfic he had been reading earlier.

To say he was obsessed with this story would be a bit of a stretch, but not a far one. He’d read it in full at least five times since he had received the link to it last week. Arthur couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was about the story that kept drawing him back – was it Archibald’s understandable reluctance? The slow surrender to Maurice’s hands and direction? Or was it the fact that, no matter how hard he tries, whenever he reads the word _Maurice_ he pictures Merlin, kind and giving and—

“You alright?” Merlin asks. A towel is wrapped around his waist, and Arthur snaps his Macbook shut. “Don’t tell me I’ve caught you watching porn,” he laughs, an easy grin on his face. His hair is fluffy from where he’s towelled it semi-dry; it’s always amused Arthur how Merlin hates having wet hair hanging around his face.

Arthur puts his Macbook aside, trying to think of a believable excuse but feeling the blood rush to his cheeks anyway. Why is he so ashamed of it now, when he so easily admitted it this afternoon? “No, I--”

Merlin laughs again, before he cocks his head to the side, contemplating. “You were reading that story again, weren’t you?” he asks, but this time it’s slow and deliberate. Arthur watches a droplet of water slide down his neck, stopping at his collarbone, where he’s sucked so many bruises before but where there are currently none.

Arthur’s mouth is suddenly dry. He licks his lips. “Maybe.”

“I meant what I said earlier,” Merlin says, hooking one hand into the towel on his lips, and revealing more of that trail of dark hair that Arthur has relentlessly mapped before. “I...” he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing, Arthur’s eyes drawn to it. “The idea of me fucking you really gets me going.”

Arthur represses a shiver at the base way Merlin says it, as if they really are their regency era characters and everything is taboo. He finds his words. “Why didn’t you tell me before? If you’ve thought of it before, that is.”

Merlin shrugs one shoulder. “It never... came up, I guess? I’ve never been fucked by you and then thought, ‘oh, that would’ve been loads better the other way round’, ever, I promise. I also thought you wouldn’t like it.”

Pulling a face, Arthur glances at his laptop on the nightstand. “I hadn’t thought I would, until I read that story, and how they’d kind of... how the author had kind of thought about what would go through Archibald’s head. And, let’s be honest, there’s not a million miles between him and me in terms of honour and upbringing and all that.”

“Well, I imagine it’d be less of a shock to _you_ anyway,” Merlin says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He smells of Arthur’s bodywash, and that does something to Arthur’s insides. “Seeing as you’ve already been with a man, and you know how it works from the other side of things.”

Arthur hums. He watches another droplet slide down Merlin’s side, glinting in the soft light, before it’s caught by the towel. It’s then that he notices Merlin’s erection. His own cock is half-hard, and he knows that Merlin knows, can practically feel Merlin looking at it.

He reaches a hand to Merlin’s arm, to trace a finger through the water drops still on his pale skin. Goosebumps rise in its wake. “What does it feel like?”

Merlin breathes a laugh, like he’s unsure whether or not to voice it. “What?” he whispers, turning his head to watch Arthur’s finger go up and down, up and down.

“Being fucked,” Arthur says. His voice is low, gravelly.

There’s a noise in the back of Merlin’s throat. When he looks up, Arthur can hardly see the blues of his eyes. Merlin shifts on the bed so that he’s leaning towards Arthur on both his hands. “Intimate,” he says after a while, eyes steady on Arthur’s. Arthur’s ministrations stall. “For a few moments, you belong to someone else. You’ve... it feels like giving myself over to you, completely, even when I’ve been setting the pace and you’ve been letting me lead. You still feel owned.”

Arthur licks his lips again. “I want to feel that.”

Merlin closes the distance between their mouths, tasting faintly of toothpaste as he moves onto his knees, crawling up the bed. For once, Arthur lets himself be led, finding a potent kind of comfort in the knowledge that Merlin knows what he’s doing. “Have you done this before?” he asks between kisses once his head is on his pillow, Merlin looming above him. “With other men.”

Arthur knows there have been others before him, even while they have been working together on _Pendleton_ , which had led to such a delayed start to their relationship. Gwaine, his former long-term boyfriend, Mordred, his childhood sweetheart, Cenred, that one night stand they both try not to remember. Arthur swallows down the jealousy rising like bile in his throat and looks up at Merlin’s soft mouth, his kind eyes.

“Yes,” Merlin admits. “But I’ve never wanted it as bad as I want it with you.”

Arthur feels his own brow soften, the worry eased. Merlin takes his hand and kisses the fingers before he links them, pressing it into the mattress near Arthur’s shoulder. Settled between his legs, Arthur wonders if Merlin feels this safe and protected when Arthur does it to him, and for a fleeting moment wonders why it’s taken them six months to try it like this.

Merlin kisses him again, not quite as innocently as he had been doing so before, and lets his hips settle against Arthur’s. “Get the towel off,” Arthur mumbles against Merlin’s lips. “Can’t feel you.”

Pulling away, Merlin huffs with laughter, and Arthur feels his breath hot against his skin. “I just knew you’d be a bossy bottom,” he smirks.

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Dear Mister Emrys, could you please remove the towel from between us so I can feel your erection against mine? Kind regards, Mister Pendragon.”

Merlin sits up a little, only to pull the towel from his waist and throw it to the floor. “No wait, not bossy, _bratty_ ,” Merlin says with a wiggle of his eyebrows before he kisses Arthur again, grinding his hips down against Arthur’s cock. “Get rid of your boxers.”

It’s more of a command rather than a request. Arthur manages to push them over his arse and towards his knees, before Merlin gets them the rest of the way off. “Look how hard you are,” Merlin says with a kind of reverence Arthur doesn’t feel worthy of. He vows to keep silent and let Merlin wash praise over him with minimal resistance.

“It’s quite a nice view from down here, actually,” Arthur says, finding himself a little star struck, or full of stage fright, or maybe both. “I mean, I’ve been down here before when you’ve ridden me, but it’s different, because you’re going to...” The words run out as Merlin sits back on his heels and takes Arthur in his hand, a lazy, familiar stroke.

“What am I going to do?” Merlin asks in a silky sweet voice. Arthur isn’t sure he’s ever seen this side of Merlin before, a Merlin that seems so in control, like he’s slipped into a second skin. When Arthur doesn’t immediately reply, jaw slack as he watches Merlin, Merlin twists his grip and Arthur chokes.

“You’re going to...” Arthur takes a deep breath. “Going to get me nice and wet, like a girl, then you’re going to press your cock inside me and fuck me until I see stars.”

Merlin takes himself in his other hand, and Arthur watches, transfixed, unable to think of anything other than Merlin’s cock inside his body. “That sounds good,” Merlin murmurs, tipping his head back and showing off that expanse of skin that he knows Arthur can’t get enough of.

“Come on then, Merlin, I haven’t got all day,” Arthur says in a rush, breaking his earlier vow to let Merlin do as he pleases. Because how can he? When Merlin looks as good as this, with his eyes fluttering shut, eyelashes fanned above those sharp cheekbones as he bites his plump bottom lip, touching them both so indecently.

Those eyes open now, that mouth turning into a smirk. “You’re going to regret saying that,” Merlin warns, almost in song. “Pass me the lube.”

Arthur hurries to comply, opening the nightstand and pulling out the bottle. He throws it to Merlin, who catches it for once. “I’m not sure I like this whole, you taking the lead thing. You’re doing it quite slowly.” His cock is released, and Arthur wants to eat his words if it means Merlin will touch him again.

Merlin shakes his head, laughing to himself. “I know you too well,” he mutters as he pours some lube onto his hand, fastening the bottle and putting it next to him on the bed. “You only let your mouth run when you’re nervous, Arthur Pendragon. You need to relax.”

Relaxing is the last thing on Arthur’s mind when one of Merlin’s fingers touches his hole, his fingertip slick and cold. He jumps, and Merlin puts his other, dry hand on Arthur’s hip, his thumb rubbing a circle there. “ _Relax_ , I said, not tense up,” Merlin smiles. He lowers himself onto his elbows, laying prone, and Arthur is treated to a view of Merlin’s arse over his shoulder, although he’s usually seeing it from the other angle when they get to this part.

Arthur breathes out slowly. “It’s not like I haven’t done this to myself before,” he finds himself saying, confirming Merlin’s observation of his untameable tongue. “I mean, who – gay or straight – hasn’t popped a finger up there before? No one. I just haven’t let... haven’t _had_ someone do it to me,” he says, and he realises that Merlin’s finger is inside him, moving minutely. “It’s just... odd not being in control of it.”

Merlin smiles, propping his cheek on the smooth inside of Arthur’s thigh. It makes Arthur’s cock twitch as Merlin lets his finger move more languidly, long strokes inside of Arthur. “Is this okay?”

Arthur bites his lip, nodding. Merlin removes the finger, to ease two in in its place. “And this?”

“Yeah,” Arthur says, before he laughs shakily. “That already feels like a lot. I know you’re a lot bigger than two of your fingers.”

“Let me take your mind off it a little,” Merlin says, moving forward to nose at the golden curls at the base of Arthur’s cock. Arthur groans, letting his head fall back to the pillow, hands twitching towards Merlin’s hair. Merlin, the devil, knows that this is Arthur’s kryptonite, the slow pull of Merlin’s mouth, the wet heat enveloping him. As Merlin lazily bobs his head up and down, his other hand gripping the bottom of Arthur’s cock, Arthur doesn’t even notice when Merlin adds a third finger. The room is filled with the lewd sounds of Merlin’s sucking and the quiet squelch of Arthur’s arse.

“This is a lot,” Arthur says, breath hitching when Merlin finally starts to curl those fingers in him. His eyes go wide. “What... oh, _Merlin_ , what is _that?”_

Merlin releases him with an obscene noise. “Ah yes, _that’s_ what you try to shush me for so we don’t wake up the neighbours when we’re home, and you call me _dramatic_.” Arthur lifts his head enough to see Merlin roll his eyes before taking Arthur into his mouth again.

“Yes but... I realise... I’m stupid,” Arthur manages, because Merlin’s now crooking his fingers in time to Arthur’s cock hitting the back of his throat.

Arthur could come like this.

And then the thought is there, and his orgasm is _right there_ when he makes a noise in the back of his throat, thrusting his hips up, feet now planted into the mattress, because he can just chase it and—

Merlin grips the base of his cock tightly, and Arthur keens at a pitch he hasn’t managed in years. “Merlin!” he whines, trying to thrust his hips up again, but the restraining arm across one hip and the circle of Merlin’s fingers remains strong until the threat passes.

“No.”

Arthur opens his mouth to reply but finds that, for once, he doesn’t have the words. Merlin’s command isn’t unkindly said, or a harsh bark, or anything that would’ve made Arthur want to argue back. It is firm and almost carries a hint of mirth on it, something like pride curling into the sound.

“Okay,” Arthur breathes, nodding down at Merlin. “Okay.”

Merlin holds his gaze as he slowly releases his grip on Arthur’s cock, pink and leaking pre-come onto his stomach once Merlin lowers it to his belly. A final twitch of his fingers, and Merlin withdraws from Arthur’s body entirely.

Finally, Arthur understands what Merlin means when he says he feels empty when Arthur does the exact same thing. Arthur doesn’t need to say this now; the look on Merlin’s face tells him that he’s thinking the exact same thing.

“You want to do it like this?” Merlin says, kneeling again and pumping himself loosely and quickly, bringing himself back to full hardness. “With you on your back?”

“Want to watch you,” Arthur says, watching Merlin open the lube again and pour some liberally onto his dick and onto Arthur’s hole. He shudders. “You don’t usually make me use that much.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow. “It’s because I’m a little bit more used to it than you’ll be, love.”

Arthur blushes, not sure if it’s because of the endearment or because of the way a sudden grin bursts across Merlin’s face. “I’m going to last about five seconds,” Merlin beams as he shuffles forward on his knees, pressing the head of his cock against Arthur’s entrance. “Five glorious, life-changing seconds.”

This makes Arthur laugh, before the sound is choked out of him as Merlin presses forwards, opening him with a blunt pressure when Arthur’s body gives way. “Oh, fuck,” Arthur says, sure that his eyes are wide as saucers, wondering what on earth has led him to make this decision because it hurts, it _burns_ and Arthur can’t—

“Shhh, baby,” Merlin says, reaching up the bed to stroke Arthur’s face. Sweat beads on Merlin’s temple, and Arthur knows that tempest Merlin’s caught in the middle of all too well; that all-consuming need to press forward and drive home at odds with the need to be slow, restrained. “That’s it. That’s the worst bit.”

“You’re joking,” Arthur splutters, indignant. This makes Merlin grin again, and Arthur reaches up to grip Merlin’s shoulders. “Move, God, please move.”

“So _needy_ ,” Merlin teases, shaking his head. Slowly, he presses forward, and the feeling of being filled overwhelms Arthur, descending on him like a tsunami, lulling him into thinking all is fine before crashing over him. It’s an intense feeling of being secure and cared for, and when he looks up at Merlin’s open mouth and dark eyes as he fucks into him, he realises that he has a new definition for home.

Arthur’s not sure he’s fully in control of his body, and wonders if there was ever a moment before now when he was. He feels so far away yet so present, as if time has slowed yet is also racing by. Merlin’s hand is on his face again, touch electric, making the heavy sensation at the base of his spine fade into the background, white noise. “Arthur?”

“Hmmm?”

“I asked if you were okay,” Merlin says, blinking. “I’m all the way in now. Do you want to wrap your legs around me? That might feel better for you.”

Arthur nods. “Sorry. Yeah. I... it’s a lot.”

Merlin strokes his cheekbone before putting his palm against the mattress, bracing himself. Arthur does as he’s told, and the movement of his legs pushes Merlin against further into him. “Oh God, oh God,” bursts from Arthur’s lips, his skin suddenly feeling hot all over. “Fucking hell. Can you do that again?”

Having miraculously held still for this unforgiving minute, Merlin finally begins a slow slide out, not quite withdrawing as far as he could, testing the waters.

Arthur wonders if this is what heaven is like, because it feels divine, the tease of the drag, the ache of it all. He hopes he’ll be sore tomorrow, so Merlin can look at him and know just how he’s taken him apart tonight, rearranged him into a temple for Merlin to worship at, this holy communion.

“God, Arthur, you feel incredible,” Merlin says, as if he’s also been holding back. He thrusts forward again, Arthur encouraging him with just the slightest push with his heels in the small of Merlin’s back, because it’s all he’s capable of. “So fucking tight. I... no one else will ever get to have you like this.” His voice sounds broken, rasping, a promise he intends to keep until the end of his days.

The raw possessiveness of it sinks Arthur to a level he never thought he’d get to before. Maybe, just maybe, this is what he was born for, this is the reason he was put on this planet, to be the place Merlin lays bare all of his own insecurities, and Arthur his. Merlin fucks into him over and over, and Arthur tries not to come undone at it all, tries to hold onto all of the parts of him that he’s sure used to fit together. It’s entirely too much and not enough, and Arthur’s never sure if he’ll be the same Arthur who woke up this morning ever again.

“Please, please, please,” Arthur realises he’s nearly chanting, when he’s able to come up for air long enough. It’s like he’s drowning in the sensation of servitude to Merlin, the sea warm and calling for him, dragging him under.

“What do you want?” Merlin asks, and it’s like Merlin can read his mind, or maybe Arthur can project his thoughts, because those long fingers of his wrap around Arthur’s cock once more and Arthur can’t comprehend a single time in his life when he’s ever felt as good as this, as happy and whole and complete as he is here, being consumed and eaten alive by Merlin, Merlin, Merlin.

“I’m gonna--” Arthur starts, gasping, and Merlin’s steady rhythm breaks, hips stuttering like the words Arthur’s trying to say, falling silently from his lips into the thick air around them.

“Arthur, _Arthur_ ,” Merlin nearly shouts, and Arthur’s fingers are digging into his back as he rocks up and down the bed, trying to cling to Merlin, to burrow himself under his skin and live there forever, to invite Merlin inside his own body further than he’s already entered. His muscles tense as he screws his eyes shut and comes, Merlin’s fist tight around his cock, milking him for everything he has. He clenches around Merlin, who buries himself inside him and swears so loudly that it would’ve made Arthur jump, if he hadn’t been enraptured by every single sound Merlin has been making this entire time.

The feeling of Merlin coming inside him is new, but not unwelcome. Boneless, Merlin slumps onto his broad, sweat-slicked chest, cheek flat against the curls in the middle of it. Barely able to think, let alone breathe, Arthur flops one arm over him as he stares at the ceiling and tries to re-join his body, his ears ringing and his limbs feeling numb.

Arthur isn’t sure how much time passes in silence, save for their shallow breathing slowly returning to normal. He commits every sensation to memory, like the beggar who doesn’t know when he’ll next be fed.

“Wow,” Merlin says either seconds or decades later, lips smushed against Arthur’s skin. “That was incredible. _You_ were incredible,” he says, lifting his head to look Arthur in the eyes.

“I...” is all Arthur manages. He nods, still trying to collect the different pieces of him that Merlin seems to have rearranged, like a stained-glass window where each part is a different colour, except all of the parts of Arthur are now Merlin’s.

“Are you okay?” Merlin asks, eyebrows knitting together. Arthur nods again, belatedly giving Merlin the smallest of squeezes with his arm. Merlin pulls away, their sticky skin peeling apart, and Arthur must’ve made a noise in protest because Merlin is soothing him. “Hold on, hold on, it’s okay. I just need to do this then I can get us cleaned up.”

Merlin sits up and Arthur, so used now to the feeling of being full, feels depressingly empty as Merlin pulls his softening cock out of his body, separating them. “Stay right there, I’ll be back in a few seconds,” Merlin says. Arthur wonders why Merlin specified a few seconds, before he feels the metres yawn between them as he goes into the bathroom.

“Merlin?” he croaks, trying out his voice for the first time. It sounds the same as before, he’s surprised to find. He thought it would be different, somehow, changed by what they had done, who he has become.

“I’m here,” Merlin says, and Arthur can breathe again as Merlin reappears, a damp flannel in his hands. It’s warm but not hot against Arthur’s skin, delicately wiping at his stomach and cock before moving down towards his hole. He must squeak a little, because Merlin takes his hand and puts it on his thigh, a silent repetition of _I’m here_ , while he ever so gently cleans where they were joined.

“I feel different,” Arthur says. Merlin’s free hand is on top of his, a lifeline.

“Yeah?” Merlin says, encouragement warm in his voice.

“I don’t feel like myself.”

Arthur turns his head away at this, a blush rising to his cheeks. Merlin puts the washcloth on the radiator next to the bed and curls behind Arthur, pulling the duvet up over them. Arthur is usually the big spoon, and before this would’ve concerned him, but Arthur’s not sure if he’ll ever be _before_ again.

“That’s okay,” Merlin says. His voice is right in his ear, grounding him. He adjusts the covers so they’re tight around Arthur under his arm, which wraps around Arthur’s waist. “You did so well, you were such a good boy. I’m so proud of you.” He presses a kiss to the nape of Arthur’s neck, and all of this sends a warm flush through Arthur’s body.

“What’s... why do I feel like this?” Arthur fights to say. The words feel sluggish in his mouth.

“I think, if I were to put money on it, that you just had your first encounter with subspace.”

The word isn’t new to Arthur. He’d read about it once when he fell down a Wikipedia-hole trying to research a character he played in a film, who had previously enjoyed the services of a Dominatrix. He tries to recall what it entailed, tries to put what he feels into words for comparison.

“I felt safe with you, like... like you would look after me if I let myself go,” he explains. Merlin continues to litter soft kisses across his neck, the tip of his nose pressing into his hair. Maybe he should be the little spoon more often. “So I kind of did, and... spaced out, I guess.”

“Well, now we know that it happens, I can be better prepared for it in the future,” Merlin says, voice warm and rich and solid. “I’ll admit that I certainly didn’t expect it. I didn’t even think you’d like it.”

“You’re telling me,” Arthur says with a ghost of a laugh, and Merlin squeezes him tighter.

“Did you enjoy it?” Merlin asks. “I mean... subspace feels good, but, did you actually like the sensation of it? Or was it the pain that sent you off?”

“It actually didn’t hurt, once I got used to it,” Arthur replies. He brings an arm out of the warm cocoon of the duvet to hold Merlin’s hand. “I’ve never played with pain,” he says, shrugging the shoulder not pressing into the mattress. “If you want to, maybe we could.”

“It’s funny,” Merlin says, and Arthur can tell that he’s smiling. “I really did think of myself as a bottom, but you seem to be naturally born to do it.”

“Yeah, well, don’t tell Morgana,” Arthur jokes, like a baby deer taking its first shaking steps. “She’d never let me hear the end of it.”

Merlin laughs lowly in response, knowing that with this, Arthur is slowly coming back into himself.

“Thank you,” Arthur says quietly.

Merlin raises their joint hands to his lips, kissing Arthur’s. “You don’t ever have to thank me for looking after you,” Merlin says, and Arthur’s heart turns to liquid at the weight of it.

Arthur falls asleep like that, safely wrapped in Merlin’s arms, with a small smile on his face.

*

“Oh, by the way, Arthur,” Morgana says to him breezily a few weeks later. “Did you ever come round to understanding just why your Archibald needed pegging, in that fanfiction?”

Arthur stabs at his pasta, glancing up at Morgana sat opposite him in the set canteen. “Because he’s a brat and needs putting into place every once and a while,” he says quickly, as if it’s a rehearsed line, before shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.

Morgana sips at her mug of tea, triumphant. “I knew you’d come round to the truth eventually.”

Merlin shakes his head minutely at the pair of them, focusing on today’s crossword in the paper. The hand not holding the pen is on Arthur’s leg, and Arthur is very aware of it, a tether between them.

“Because, obviously, a man as pompous and self-assured as Archibald couldn’t possibly _want_ to be submissive. It would be a one-time thing,” Morgana continues, taking another sip of her tea, peering at Arthur over the rim of the mug. The ring on her finger clinks against it as she waits for his response.

“Obviously,” Arthur repeats. Under the table, Merlin’s thumb rubs a soothing circle against the fabric of his trousers.

“Oh look, Morgana, you can help me with this one,” Merlin says brightly, reading from the page. “3 down, 4 letters. _A bit too interested_. First letter N, last letter Y.” He looks up at her, pushing his reading glasses up his nose. “Any ideas?” he grins.

“Nosy,” Arthur says automatically, putting his fork down on his plate. He looks up at Morgana’s poker face, gaze locked with Merlin’s. “Oh.”

“Looks like Archibald and Arthur don’t have that much in common after all,” she drawls, raising her eyebrows once at Merlin before putting her empty mug down. “Do make sure you take care of him in your sessions, Merlin. Would be terrible if our titular character missed a day’s shooting because of sub-drop.”

With that, she grins and leaves the table.

“Did that just happen?” Arthur asks after a few moments have passed in silence.

Merlin squeezes his knee. “I was hoping you were going to tell me it was all a figment of my imagination.” He takes off his reading glasses and folds them, setting them down on the table. “Although, _nosy_ really was a clue. She seems to know far too much about us.”

“I’m more concerned that she knows what sub-drop is.” Arthur has only very recently learnt this himself; he and Merlin had been taking time outside of the bedroom to educate themselves fully, so they could be prepared if it ever happened to Arthur during or after their play. “Do you think...?”

“...her and Gwen?” Merlin finishes nearly instantly. They look at each other, before Merlin pulls a face. “I really didn’t need that mental image.”

“I _bet_ she’s been reading that fic I told her about,” Arthur says with a victorious grin. Merlin puts his head in his hands, releasing Arthur’s leg. “See? Fanfiction isn’t all that bad.”

Merlin looks at him in the way that makes his stomach flip. “No. In fact, there’s a couple of stories I’m rather partial to.”

“Oh?”

“Have you seen the one where Archibald gets eaten out by Maurice? Bent over the table in the ballroom?” Merlin asks, his tone light and playful. His hand returns to Arthur’s leg, this time much closer to his crotch.

“Oh, really?” Arthur asks, swallowing. “And how does that one go?”

Merlin lowers his voice. “I’ll show you later, if you’re a good boy.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Arthur grins, and Merlin pecks him on the lips in reward.

**Author's Note:**

> I realised, writing this, that this is the first time I've written Merlin and Arthur fucking in the 7 years I've been in this fandom, without either genderbending or A/B/O dynamics in the mix. Pure gay sex! I hope it, er, hits the spot for you!


End file.
